BEST EATEN COLD
by foxdvd
Summary: “It all began when Lindsay and I overheard this bimbo from accounting telling her friend how she was planning to bed Danny after the fund raiser party, and she went on saying how Linds wasn’t any competition whatsoever, so…
1. Bathroom bitches

**A/N: ** Has it ever happened that you have this great scene all played out in your head, dialogues and all, and you just can't find a way to fit it anywhere??? The end scene in here was supposed to be my first CSI NY fic ever… so it's a safe bet to say it's long overdue by now… but it finally found the right vehicle to hop into, so… hope you like it!

Xxx XXX xxX

"It all began when Lindsay and I overheard this bimbo from accounting telling her friends how she was planning to bed Danny after the fund raiser party, and she went on saying how Linds wasn't any competition whatsoever, so… you see… we HAD to do something about it. Really."

"Really?"

"Honest to God. Why don't you believe me? Everyone else seems happy with the story and the outcome…"

"Everyone else doesn't know you as well as I do. So… spill"

She lets out a sigh, defeated. "Oh, all right. If you really want to know. It all began about 4 days ago when Linds and I had stopped at the ladies washroom on the 4th floor right after the budget meeting…."

FOUR DAYS EARLIER:

"So, anyway. I got the dress. I mean, it's like, totally awesome. Makes me look smokin' hot. Really. Like, this cute guy that was outside the dressing rooms, like, waiting for his girl, he was so totally checking me out. Like, offering to help me with the zipper and stuff…"

"And did ya like, hook up with him, I mean?"

"Eww, gross. As if! Totally not cool. I got that dress for someone else, like, to get him eating off my hands, really…"

Stella Bonasera almost had it with this "Britney-meets-Paris" dialogue and was about to leave the bathroom stall when she heard a familiar name and decided to endure them a bit longer to find out what they had in mind. It wasn't gossiping… it was looking out for one of her own.

"So, anyway, about Friday, are you like, really going to the fund raiser. Bo-o-ring."

"Donnie Flack is going"

"What-ever. He's like… old. And he doesn't have a car. And he ain't that hot"

"You're so absofuckinglutely outta your mind! And I really, really, like, need you to come with me. I don't wanna to arrive alone. So please?"

"Yeach… you've like, totally lost it. I mean like, totally spaced out. I could get ya coming to nail Donnie, but coming to get Messer? He's, like, mayor geek."

"Duh… whatever. He's got this cute ass and you know how the secretaries down at the precinct say he's like, hot in bed. Fuckin' A+ fuck. And he's so gonna be mine come Friday…"

"Newsflash! He'll be coming with the other CSI girl, you know, country mouse?"

"Hello? Eww… as if! Once he sees me wearing this dress, she'll be like… gone. Really. So please? Pretty please? I'll hook ya up with Donnie so you don't have to go home alone…"

The rest of the conversation was cut short by the bathroom door closing behind the two girls, who seemingly had the evening all planned out already. Stella felt a mix of sadness and revolt. They couldn't be older than 25 and they were still behaving like teens, relying solely on their looks and sexuality to get them what they wanted. Stella couldn't help but shudder. She knew both Danny and Don were beyond those kinds of games already. But, they were also male, young, single, and by the time these girls put the moves on them, they'd probably be drunk enough to go for it.

She heard a bathroom stall open behind her. "Hey, Linds, do you think we should…."

The next words died on her lips when she realized it wasn't Lindsay, but Emma Lou Stevens, who had come out of the stall and was now at the sinks washing her hands.

"Emma Lou"

"Stella"

Both women took their time getting ready to leave.

"Kids these days", Emma Lou commented, pleasantly, "But, then again, you and I weren't so different back in our days, weren't we?" Stella shrugged her shoulders, noncommittally. "But they're right, you know. That girl from the country? She's nice but average. A bit on the blah side, really. And I'm assuming dear Danny boy hasn't changed a bit. He's still a tits-n-arse guy, isn't he? Surely this girl must know she's aiming too high above her range, right?"

Stella was biting her lips and clutching her briefcase, barely holding her composure. She had already counted to 10 and backwards, both in English and in Greek, and she was loosing the battle with her temper. God knew the last thing she needed was a confrontation with Emma Lou, not after what had happened a couple of years ago, which had kept Stella a household name in the office gossip mill for quite some time. She decided that ignoring Emma Lou was probably the best course of action given the circumstances.

"As for this… Donnie Flack… if he's half as good looking as his dad once was, he must be a real heartthrob. Oh! I'm so sorry Stell… here I am talking about things that, clearly, you know more about that I do. " Emma Lou put her lipstick back into her purse and headed for the door, and then added, as if an afterthought, "But, then again, you always liked younger guys. And if Danny hasn't changed, why should you?"

And with that, she was gone.

Stella threw her briefcase at the mirror and cursed in every language she knew. Emma Lou still knew how to push her buttons, and that made her more angry than the witch's insinuation. Oh, how she hated her! She wanted nothing more than to be able to wipe that smug grin from Emma Lou's face…

Then she heard a noise coming form the last stall in the bathroom and she froze. She prayed with all her might that it wasn't Lt. Tenorio in there. God knew she'd made a fool of herself in front of her boss's boss more times than she cared to remember… including that little scene with Emma Lou at the Millennia fundraiser.

But the door opened, and she came face to face with a clearly upset Lindsay Monroe, and Stella felt a pinch of pity for the woman in front of her. She wished Lindsay hadn't had to hear any of the things the damn bitches from the administrative area were saying about the CSIs. But, no such luck.

Lindsay smiled at Stella, not feeling an ounce of it, and headed for the sinks, where she stood contemplating her reflection on the mirror. She turned sideways, tucked her tummy in, and gave her figure a critical once over. "Clearly, not much of a figure there", she muttered, more to herself than to Stella.

And that was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. Or Stella's level of bullshit acceptance.

"The way I see it Linds, we got two choices. WE can pretend none of this ever happened, go back to our happy lil CSI's existence, attend the fund raiser Friday wearing the first thing we find in our closet that resembles formal attire, smile placidly and watch from the sidelines how a couple of bimbos snag our boys form under our noses…"

"Or?"

"Or we could go shopping as soon as we're done with the budget meeting"

Lindsay's eyes grew bigger as understanding made a way through her brain.

"And I don't know about you, honey, but I got a couple of credit cards in dire need of severe retail damage"

Xxx XXX xxX

**A/N: **What course of action will Lindsay choose? Will she really allow a Paris wannabe to bed her man? And what EXACTLY did Emma Lou did to Stella at that party? Stay tuned for the next update! In the meantime, reviews and chocolate chip cookies are greatly appreciated by the muse…


	2. Meetings And Atteliers

**A/N: **Oh… the joys of being a female! The completely illogical things we do for the most logical of reasons, like… buying a new dress when you don't really need one. And then buying the shoes to go with it. And the matching purse. And…

**A/N: ** A thousand apologies for taking too darn long to post this. And many more thanks for the reviews and Chips Ahoy sent my way!

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Mac Taylor could brag about his knowledge in many areas. But he would never, ever, plead to understanding the way females behaved. Or thought. He had learned, the hard way, that it was best not to try and guess what was going on behind a woman's apparently calm features.

Take Lindsay, for example. She seemed to be going through a whole plethora of emotions right then. She seemed giddy one second and remorseful the next. She smiled as if she had this great secret about to burst form her chest, and then cringe and recoil and avoid all kind of interaction with the rest of them. Then she'd get this… daring… expression on her face, like she was determined to go to the ends of the world to accomplish… whatever it was on her mind, only to be replaced with a pensive look, lower lip gnawed included. And all this in the span of 7 minutes. And the cycle started again…

Stella wasn't any better. She was always the perfect choice for meeting attendant. She could plaster this Madonna-like beatifical smile on her face, nod warmly to everyone around her, and ask interesting and well-timed questions, no matter how boring the meeting was. Mac had asked her once how she managed to do that, and she claimed the secret of survival was picturing herself in a virginal island in South Pacific with a Clive Owen/Colin Firth clone who would… Mac had gotten the picture. He had even tried it once, but decided neither Brit was his type anyway. But if it worked for Stella…

Which, apparently, wasn't happening now. She had been taking notes, chewing on the pen top, crossing things out, adding new things, thinking about it, whatever IT was, once more, writing some more… Only when she seemed pleased with her list did she recap the pen. And then the watch watching began. Stella had looked at her watch at least 17 times in the past 25 minutes or so. And she looked impatient, with capital I. Risking a glance downwards, Mac could corroborate his initial suspicions: Stella was tapping her feet, raring to go. But… go where?

"So this brings us to the end of the meeting. I'd like to th…"

"Perfect!"

Stella jumped of her chair, grabbed her purse and Lindsay in one swift move and headed for the elevator as fast as her long legs could propel her. She threw a "we'll see you tomorrow" at Mac when he stood out of their way to avoid being trampled over by them and was gone without even hearing his reply.

"What was that?" Hawkes asked, standing next to Mac at the doorway.

"Hell if I know." Said Mac, "But Heaven helps us when we get to find out"

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Lindsay was too overwhelmed to speak until she found herself sitting next to Stella on a cab.

"Where are we going?" She inquired at last, fearing the answer.

"Shopping."

"I kinda got that, Stell. The question is… where?"

"Wait till we're there. You're going to love Stevie. He's the best dress designer in all Broadway"

"What?" Lindsay let out a yelp. "Stell, wait… I can't afford to pay that! Retail, maybe... and that would mean a full fortnight of hotdogs morning, noon and night!"

"Shush, shush, shush. Not another word until you see where we are going. And then we'll talk budget, k?"

Lindsay agreed. Not that she had other options. So she tried to calm herself by looking out the window. Since she was expecting to arrive to a full attelier, Pairs style, in Upper Manhattan, she was quite shocked to discover their ride pulling into an alley and stopping in front of a back entrance door. Half hoping this was a mistake, reality crashed down when she saw Stella bursting out of the cab and nearly hauling her alongside.

"And... uh.. this is... it?"

Stella looked at the young woman with warmth in her heart. She could still remember her first years at the force, the akwardness, the uncertanty. The not knowing how to go about getting the guy you want to get so badly. Oh yes. Stella remembered all too well. Except that, back then, the only person who could have helped her had actually stabbed her in the back the moment Stella had let her guard down.

Some things never change. The rookie and the senior agent. The office romance. The budget stretching. But Stella was was gonna make damn sure that the betrayal cycle would not be repeated here.

"This, Detective Monroe, is the door covering the entrance to the White Rabbit's hole."

And opening the door with a grand gesture, Stella stood aside, extending her inviting arm towards the entrance.

"Shall we?"

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**A/N: **What lies behind that red door? Who used Stella's trust against her? And, more interestingly, who was the guy Stella fell for when she was a rookie?

**A/N2: **Will this author get reviews over this chapter?


	3. Musings at the Entrance

**A/N: ** How can the same inanimate object trigger two different walks down memory lane? And what, exactly, makes an attire memorable in a man's mind? Is it the dress, or is it the woman wearing it?

**A/N2: **I'd like to thank Michaela Martin, jaed621, chili-peppers, lemmingduck, Tuffel, melissouza, zora080393, RenLissa, phantomliberty, la querida, Princess of Peas, p3karen, SallyJetson, mercy4vr, Mrs. Fitzgerald, Sessywuver, and wjobsessed for all the wonderful reviews given to the second chapter of this story. My deepest apologies for not writing personally. All cookies, chocolates and recipes accepted. Bribery, too!

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"So you basically walked out of a budget meeting to go shopping?"

Stella rolled her eyes. "So typically male", she thought.

"It wasn't just any shopping. Come one, you saw Lindsay. Do you really think she had that dress hanging in the back of her closet? That wasn't a dress, that was perfection!"

"Remind me again what colour was it"

"Oh you!" Stella slapped him not-so-playfully, "You're impossible!"

"You're asking the wrong man about that dress. Yours, however, I remember perfectly..."

Xxx XXX xxX

Stella Bonasera felt so giddy she was about to burst giggling. And that would probably scare Lindsay. And the last thing she needed right now, was scaring Lindsay off, not when she was about to let the young woman in one of the best kept secrets of the city.

And what a secret Stefen Van Holdestein was! Stella had met him some 10 years ago, while working on a case, and had quickly becomed hooked. Monetarily speaking, she wasn't his greatest fan, not even close, but she made sure she visited him at least once a month. She was sworn to secrecy, as well, and had only introduced another woman before Linds that day. Stella allowed herself a moment of sorrow to go alongside with the memory of Claire Taylor.

Lindsay, on the other hand, was considering if she ought to take this step or not. Although maybe "step" wasn't the right choice of word. This was more like a leap of faith. Lindsay felt that, somehow, once she had gone through those silky panels hanging behind the opened door, things would never be the same. SHE would never feel the same.

And suddendly she felt like she was 10 again. 10 years old and spending the week before Christmas with his aunt Mary in Chicago. 10 years old, and standing outside the biggest toy shop she had ever seen in her entire life. The shop was about to open, and she was standing first in line to get inside, and Aunt Mary had promised to get her anything she wanted and...

Lindsay had never been the same after that trip. The change had nothing to do with the stuffed lilac pony she ended up getting, but rather with the notion that she could have more than she had then. Maybe not just "have" but "be" more. She had realized that there was more to life than her comfy life in Montana, and somewhere deep inside, she had made up her mind: she'd someday live in a big city like Chicago.

Or New York, for that matter.

"Lindsay? You coming?"

Stella's voice seemed to snap her out of her reverie. She lifted her hand and touched the soft fabric which was hiding who knew what secrets behind it. She had a momentary flahsback, finding herself once more in front of the toy shop doors, watching the employees remove the paddles and finally opening them, and that was all it took. She had made up her mind without even noticing she had done so.

And THAT made her feel both thrilled and scared to death. But damned if she was taking a step back!

"After you , Alice."

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**A/N: ** I know, I know. Too much character development, too little action. But rest assured, good things come to those who wait. Unless you feel introspection has no big role in this lil fic of mine? Plus, who do you think is the guy who remembers Stella dress but not Lindsay's?

**A/N2: ** And yes, this is my shameless attempt to get reviews moving along!


	4. Country girl, city girl

**A/N: **I tried not to turn Stefen Van Holdestein into a cliché (gay dress designer) but rather based him on a couple of dear friends of mine, who are responsible for all the formal wear in my closet, and who are already plotting on my daughter's quinceañera dress.

**A/N2: **Had I known that finding a dress was going to be so difficult, even in ficdom, I would have never opened that can of worms!

Xxx XXX xxX

Behind the gossamer curtains of the entrance, here lay a hall, barely lit, comfortable rather than eerie lighting coming from tiny spots along the hall's walls. From beyond, music could be heard. Lindsay thought she recognized what was being played, but she couldn't go beyond telling it was a catchy rhythm… a happy rhythm.

Stella walked past her, opened the door at the end of the hall and ushered them both in. Lindsay wasn't really sure what she was expecting to find... but it certainly wasn't what she was looking at.

This wasn't a shop. At least, not a shop like she knew them. It looked more like a… like a… _"toy store"_ whispered her excited 10 year old self in the back of her mind. And it was probably right. All over the multicolored room were mannequins dressed in different fabrics. Vanity tables, mirrors, sofas, cushioned chairs were scattered here and there. And, above all, dresses. Dresses everywhere. Seemingly tossed about randomly, but carefully positioned so anyone coming through that door could see them all. Not take them all in, for that was impossible. Even the most un-chic geek in New York wouldn't have been able to feel excited about this store. Lindsay wasn't an un-chic geek, but the closest she had been to fashion, real fashion, were the spreads at Vogue magazine she liked to leaf through whilst drinking tea at the corner coffee shop.

Only then did she notice the man working on a mannequin at the corner of the room. Tall and broad shouldered, he almost seemed too rough to be doing the delicate labor he was engrossed on when they came in, namely, embroidering. _"That man in hand-embroidering a dress"_, thought Lindsay in awe, _"there's no way in hell I'm gonna be able to afford this!"_

Just then, the man in question decided to turn around and find out who had barged into his domains. His face broke into a huge smile when he saw Stella, bouncing towards him.

"Bebe!" he exclaimed, dropping his sewing to the side and taking three strides to grab her in his arms, loudly kissing both cheeks and hugging her tight.

"Stefie, darling!" was Stella's equally buoyant response. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything…"

"You, bebe, never interrupt me. I was already wondering when you'll be showing those bouncy tits of yours in here. And who, pray tell, is this deer-like creature you brought with you?" he asked, glancing towards Lindsay.

Stella promptly made the introductions. "Stef, this is my workmate, fellow CSI Lindsay Monroe. Linds, this is Stefen Van Holdestein, the best designer this side of the Bronx... and the other as well".

They both shook hands and exchanged pleasantries, carefully eyeing one another. She with nervousness and trepidation, him with critical analysis.

"Well?" asked Stella, as if waiting for the designer to produce a verdict.

"Country girl. Cowgirl, too. She'll do nicely in stilettos, Manolo's if her ankles aren't too thick for a strap, Jimmy's is she'd rather do pumps… got the perfect fucking pair done in Swarovski somewhere around here. She's got tits and gravity has been kind to her so far. She's got arse, too, but Lord knows she hasn't got a clue as to what to do with them. She probably got these athletic arms, not too defined as to ruin the look, but nice and plump enough as to not worry about sleeves as cover up. Her face will look too harsh if we put her in one of those dramatic tones you so much adore." Stefen finished his report and looked back at Stella. "Happy now, bebe?"

"Oh Stefie, I KNEW I was right when I decided to bring her here!"

"Excuse me…"

"But you, bebe, should also know better than to barge on me without calling ahead. I'm willing to forgive you this time, but only cause I'm crazy about you"

"Have you decided on what I'll be getting?"

"Excuse me…"

"That depends. I'm figuring it's that yearly fund raiser thingy of yours... again. So what are we aiming for this year? Blend with the scenery, we're so gonna fuck once we get out of here or listen bitch this male is mine?"

"EXCUSE ME!"

Lindsay felt a bit self-conscious when both of them stopped talking and looked at her questioningly. She hadn't really meant to yell, but she was getting tired of being ignored. Not to mention she was still annoyed over Stefen's reading on her.

"Yes, bebe, is there anything you'd like to share with us? And before you decide you want to rip my eyes out of my sockets I am, by no means, being patronizing. I have the feeling that my cheeky friend over here brought you to my boudoir without any proper explanation, didn't she? In that case, bebe, my deepest apologies. I can understand how you feel."

The designer looked truly remorseful and emphatic, and Lindsay felt her temper starting to drop.

Stefen turned to Stella. "You evil women, you. I ought to punish you and let you go dress-less for being so mean to your friend here."

Stella raised her hands. "But sweetie, it would have ruined the whole effect if I had told her! Besides," she added in a conciliatory tone, "you love showing off, don't you?"

"Details, mere details". Stefen waived her off and turned to Lindsay. "You see, bebe, I'm a CSI of sorts myself. I can tell plenty about people just by looking at how they are dressed. And once I've done that, I can "undress" them, so to speak, in order to find the perfect gown for them."

Lindsay looked at him questioningly. She wasn't all together sure she bought the whole theory, and the designer saw that as well, so he was quick to give her a more thorough explanation.

"Country girl… you know how to do the layering thing. And since you always prefer denims to any other kind, you are comfortable wearing them as a second skin. City girls wear them to call the attention, you wear them as a way of life and it shows. Cowboy girl… you should see yourself on those boots, bebe. Again, for you it's a way of life, not a fashion statement. And you know how to work them, too!"

Lindsay analyzed his answers and came to the conclusion that his explanation was plausible. "But what about the rest? How do you know about… well… uh…?" She gestured toward her body. "The tits and arse thing?"

The man laughed out loud at her embarrassment. "Oh bebe, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel bad! AS I said before, I have a knack for "undressing" people from a distance; just by the way they carry themselves. Even if they are not flaunting their assets, I can always tell. You may be lacking in the height department, which you compensate nicely with those 3-inch you're wearing by the way, but you definitively got shapes under all those layers. You may be petite, bebe, but you carry mighty assets."

Lindsay turned towards Stella, who had been browsing about the store and already had a couple of dresses hanging from her arms. "Is he for real?"

"I'm 100 for real, bebe. I may be gay, but I ain't stupid. You have no idea how to dress to showcase, as you've always dressed for working, but that doesn't mean you don't have what it takes. Take Stella, for example. She's tall and slender, with a great upper-lower body proportion…"

Lindsay interrupted like an eager puppy. "Now you're talking. Stella has a great body!"

Stefen laughed and patted her cheek. "Whatever she's paying you, it ain't enough bebe. As I was saying, she has a model body, but she hasn't got a figure. She doesn't have full tits, and rest assured J. Lo isn't loosing any sleep over her. When it comes to junk in a trunk, Stella is more like a pizza delivery bike…"

"I love you too, you know"

"Bebe, if you wanted flattery you'd go someplace else. You come to me for the harsh truth and a way to work it, don't you? So bugger off and lemme educate your friend here."

Lindsay couldn't help but laugh. Stella was pretending to be steaming over the comment, but her smile was broad and a happy one. Lindsay supposed that if Stella could take that kind of heat and not take offense, she might as well give this man a chance.

"But I've never walked on stilettos, and I could never ever in a million years afford Manolo Blahnik or Jimmy Choo shoes!"

Stefen looked at Lindsay, surprised, and then regaled her with a huge smile. "Oh, bebe! My country pumpkin has turned to Cinderella and gone to the palace once or twice. That's wonderful. I don't' have to spell things out for you… much"

"Ouch…" Lindsay felt the barb.

Stella walked past her and gave her a reassuring pat on the back. "Tough love, remember? Take it as a CSI and he'll turn you into a bombshell… guaranteed. He's fooled everyone making 'em think I had cleavage, hasn't he?"

"Well… that he has. I think" Lindsay didn't want to openly stare at Stella's cleavage, but she was almost certain that she had some… well, almost being the operative word here.

"Enough chatting, bebes. Let's get down and dirty here. What are we trying to achieve here?"

Before Linds could even think of how to answer that, Stella beat her to the punch line. "Me, I need a "take that, bitch" with plenty of "and you thought I'd lost it". Her… I think a "what are you waiting to fuck me" will do, for starters."

"Stella!!!"

The designer looked at Lindsay's shocked, outraged expression and at Stella's smirk, and smiled.

"Bebes, I think I have just what you need. Come this way, please."

Xxx XXX xxX

**A/N: **What? Don't tell me you were expecting to hear about the dresses just yet! Truth is, I have two runner-ups for each one of them, so to speak, and I'm having a hard time making up my mind as to which one should be the winning one. I'm willing to take a poll on it! All you have to do is get in touch…


	5. Love, money and pregnancies

**A/N: ** My deepest apologies for taking so long to update. Real life sequestered the muse and Ive been too tired to even attempt to turn on the computer. My sincerest thanks to everyone who has been kind enough to review this story so far.

**A/N2: **One of the reasons for the delay is that I just spent 4 days in NYC for the first time ever! Yay!!

Xxx XXX xxX

Lindsay stared at Stella open mouthed. She couldnt bring herself to believe that she had said... what she had said. Whan on Earth was Stella thinking??? A "fuck me" type of dress? What would the NYPD department think? What would DANNY think, for that matter? And why the hell was she worried about Danny in the first place?

"Stel, I really don't think..." Lindsay wasn't really sure how to aproach the issue without making an utter fool of herself.

"Shhh... bebe... no thinking here. This isn't about logic. It's about feeling. Feeling good about yourself, feeling confident about how you look, feeling... "appreciated" by that special young man that keeps you awake at night."

Lindsay opened her mouth and tried to deny everything. She slowly closed it. What was she going to deny? Any woman in her right man wants to look her absolute best and feel great about her accomplishing it. As for feeling appreciated... she refused to go THERE with Stef... specially in front of Stella. Although she was pretty sure Stella knew pretty much everything about her crush on Danny there was to know... and there was a good chance she understood it better than Lindsay herself did.

"Ok, bebes, now that we have that settled, let's get down to our dirty business. Stel, bebe, I'll start with you as I already know what's best for you." Noticing Lindsay's slight out, the designer was quick to add, "And that way I'll have some time to make up my mind as to which of the two dresses I have in mind for you will work best... fear nothing, bebe, he'll never know what hit him."

And without so much of a galnce directed her way, Stefen turned, grabbed Stella's hand, and lead her to the left side of the room, leaving Lindsay open mouthed and shocked for the third time that day. The man was definitively setting some sort of new world record.

Stella looked back at Lindsay with a knowing smile. She had been the target of Stefen's blunt, albeit charming, barbed darts more often than she cared to remember and she understood perfectly how the young woman was feeling right then and there, and Stella had to repress her motherly intincts and fight the urge to console her. She knew that, in the end. Lindsay would come to thank Stefen for all the pain he was inflicting upon her just then.

"Lindy, bebe, as you seem a really nice girl who can keep really really quiet I'm willing to let you watch. Take that chair over there and learn all you can"

Lindsay Monroe had sworn, some 20 years ago, that if someone ever called her any variation of herself outside Linds that person would face excruciating torture and permanent injury. And yet, here she was obeying a man who had dared call her a country pumpkin, a bebe AND Lindy. And all to get just a mere three square feet piece of fabric that had the power to change lives.

"Ok bebe… let's get some things straight. You want a "take that bitch" kinda dress, right? Am I right to assume its the same bitch, the same playground, just a different date?" Stefen's deep blue eyes seemed to pierce Stella, who only managed to nod. "Good, good. Hmmm... I know. The black one with rhinestones and a plunging neckline... No. Wait." Stefen seemed to take a closer look at Stella, staring deep into her eyes as if he wanted to learn the deepest darkest secrets of her heart.

"I knew it! You wicked witch, when where you planning to tell me? How dare you keep something as juicy as that hidden from me??? Forget the black dress, that's not good enough now..."

Stefen began moving dresses around in different racks, murmuring to himself, throwing dagger-like galnces at Stella. The later was looking slightly pleased with herself, and yet, she managed to look completely guilty and ashamed at the same time and she kept her eyes fixed on her hands.

Lindsay had watched the exchange with great curiosity. Stella Bonasera had a secret so dark and juicy it changed the whole perspective on her life? Lindsay wasn't really sure what was goign on, but she bet that it was good gossip material... leverage, too, come to think of it.

"I should not give you this dress, bad woman. But you know I have a real soft spot for you. So in order for me to forgive you, you have to promise to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth or else I'll make you wear a potato sack! Not that you wouldn't look kinda cute in one of those... so... spill."

"There isn't really much to tell..." Stella began, trying to find a way out of this mess.

"Yeah, right. And Im just a bloody taylor and not a divine designer! You can't fool me, bebe, you ought to know that. Shall I fill in the blanks for you?"

Stella stared at the man with her eyes wide open, threw a sidelong glance at Lindsay and raised her hands in defeat. She knew she couldn't keep something like this secret for a long time.

"One of these days, bebe, you'll finally realize that, no matter what's happened in the past, you're every ounce worthy of love. Personally, I find it divine that he's a younger guy... handsome too, from the twinkle in your eyes. Do you really think you were going to keep it a secret for long? Don't you ever listen to me? How many times have I told you that there are three things in life you can't hide?"

"Really?"

The words were out of her mouth before Lindsay realized it, and she childishly clamped her hands over her mouth to show her remorse. "Sorry", she mumbled thorugh her fingers.

"You can't hide that you're in love, you can't hide that you have or don't have money and you can't hide a pregnancy for long, no matter how much you try."

"And speaking of which..." Stefen grabbed a measuring tape and menacingly approached Stella, "Let's see how mugh fun you've been having with your boy toy, bebe."

Xxx XXX xxX

**A/N: ** I'm writing this as fast as I can, trust me. I plan to finish at lest another chapter before tackling the Xmas turkey, so keep yur fingers crossed!


	6. Chandelier earrings and stilettos

**A/N: ** As promised, I'm typing in between cooking bouts. Thank God Xmas fare needs plenty of oven time!

Xxx XXX xxX

It was Stella's turn to look insulted.

"Stefen! I'm DEFINITIVELY not pregnant! Put that measuring tape away!"

The man looked at her with a mixture of naughtiness and affection. "Bebe! I wasn't going to measure your tummy!" Stella seemed to relax a bit uppon hearing this. "I was aiming to find out what kind of work out is this young stud of yours giving your tits and arse!"

Lindsay took one look at Stella's expression and bursted out laughing. She didn't intend to be rude, but it was somehow funny to see her boss gaping and blushing and generally at a loss for words... or course of action, for that matter. She just hoped Stella would be able to understand that.

"There, there, Bebe... stop the sputtering. Remember a couple of years back when you were having a lovin' dry spell? You brought me back a couple of mine dresses cause they were starting to fit too loosely... then you were head over heels with the stockbroker and you rounded up in interesting places, ain't that right? In the past 10 years you've been coming here your measurments have never been quite the same as your previous visits."

Stell seemed to calm down, yet was still showing a deeper hue on her cheeks.

"Your reaction, however, leaves me to wonder why on Earth, Bebe, would you jump to the bambino conclusion so quickly. Someone's throwing caution to the wind in the throes of passion? Or is time so of the essence on those locker rooms of you that you forgo slapping a rubber on him?"

"Stefen Van Holdestein! How dare you!"

"He's that good, huh? You lucky bit, you! I have the perfect dress for you, now. We won't dissapoint Mr. Hard and Furious, Bebe"

And with that, Stefen lost himself amid two huge mounds of clothes. Stella slowly turned around to face Lindsay, who had been shocked into soberdom. The older woman was still trying to figure out how to give Lindsay a plausible explanation and yet save some face when she was interrupted by the younger woman's stage-like whisper.

"Can he really tell if you're not getting any just by measuring your curves????"

Not knowing exactly how to answer that, Stella merely nodded.

"Shit... how embarrasing!"

Stella looked at Lindsay and let out a healthy laugh. 'Only Lindsay', she thought, 'would worry over her sex life status when my so-called secret one has been outed so loudly and embarrasingly. Any other woman would take that knowledge and run with it, but not Linds.'

Just then, Stefen came back carrying an iridiscent copper hued fabric in both arms. Without a single word, he spread his arms and let the dress unfold and speak for itself.

Hanging from a silk-covered hanger was a halter sheath, with a high triangled neck that barely hung from two spaghetti straps. The sides dropped so low that they called for double-sided tape in order to avoid too much sideways exposure.

The fabric was tight across the breast and tummy areas, and then gently folded and pooled all the way down to the floor. The skirt flow, however, was deceiving, as it cleverly hid two side slits that reach well above mid-tigh level.

The back was equally revealing, as it plunged to a mere inch above butt level, leaving the upper part od the beasts, the shoulders and the back uncovered quite nicely. The fabric bundled and folded in the arse area, actually creating the illusion of having an arse to begin with. The silky material then gave way to a small tulle train. All in all, it was the perfect mixture between regal and sexy.

"**N**o zippers, no clasps, no bra required. All yoiur young stud has to do is flick his wrist, undo the bow at the back of your neck and voila! Next thing you know the dress will be pooling around your stilettos. All you'll need then will be your luminicent smile, one of those adorable barely-there über-low thongs you fancy and thigh high stockings."

As if having a second thought, the designer added: "As for the general public, pull your hair up, add golden chandelier earrings and barely there make up and you're done. Not that they won't notice what you're NOT wearing, but I'd like to see them say that to your face. Think the bitch will go down in flames?"

Stella took one look at the dress, one look a the designer and then porceeded to do a victory happy dance. "Yes, yes, Y E S !!!! Stefan, you brute, I'd fuck you senseless right here, right now if I knew it'd rock your boat..."

"I'm touched, Bebe, and I'm sure plenty of guys would gladly give up their right nut for an offering like that but you ain't my favourite Greek gyro flavour. On the other hand, is Claire's marine still in mourning?"

"Not as much as he used to, but he's still as straight as they come. Sorry about that, babe."

"It's okay, Bebe. All the good ones are either married and non-cheaters, or straight and non-flexible. Do you have the trimmmings you need to go with the dress?"

"I could use the earrings..." Stella said, mock hesitance in her voice, "You wouldn't happen to have copper hued Manolos lying around now, would you?"

Stefan gave Stella a playful swat on her derriere. "Get out of here, you horrible Bebe. You know where to look for them. Go ahead and regale yourself. We'll talk payment once you're done."

And turning towards a still in shock, Lindsay, the designer said: "And now, Bebe, ready to be transformed into a sex goddess?"

Xxx XXX xxX

**A/N: ** I'm not cruel. I'm just a mom and a homemaker whose family threatens invasion within the next 48 hours. Chapter 7 will be home for the holidays, though...


	7. Back off!

**A/N: **Having finished with the romeritos, the bacalao and the dried-fruit stuffed turkey, I'm trying my best to put the next tidbits in order. This part of the story was detailed mentally whilst wrapping up a gazillion presents. Let's just hope I didn't leave anything stuck on a self-adhesive ribbon!

**A/N2: **So far, we've been wading in a comfy low-T rating. I could keep it there, or push it an itsy-bitsy more into M territory, but I'm willing to go with the audience here. (Anyone for some hot D/L interaction?)

Xxx XXX xxX

Lindsay has been struck dumb ever since she had seen Stella's dress. The amount of flesh the older woman was going to show wearing it was surely illegal in at least 4 states. But if anyone coud pull it off, it was Stella. And Lindsay felt happy for her friend and mentor-of-sorts. She even felt a bit sorry for this young suitor of hers. He'd never, ever know what hit him once he saw Stella.

But now Stefan was looking at her in a predatory way and Lindsay just stood there, like the proverbial deer caught in the headlights. And it suddendly hit her. Stella had requested a "fuck me" dress for her. And if Stella's dress was the "demure" one, Lindsy didn't even want to think what the designer had in mind for her.

"Ready, my adorably scared country pumpkin bebe?"

"I, ah, hmm... guess?"

"Oh Bebe, don't worry! Stella, bless her heart, is a show-off. But you're not going to show THAT much skin... just enough to get your beau to wonder what the heck has he been waiting for to get you into his bed..."

"But, but, but... there isn't... I mean.. I don't have... I mean, he doesn't..."

"Bebe... as endearing as you look sputtering nonsense, it ain't going to get you anywhere. So tell me, pumpkin, how do you feel about wine?"

But before Lindsay could even consider how to answer that, Stefan had already grabbed her by the wrist and was dragging her to the back of the room. The young CSI was too busy avoiding stacks of this and that to ask where, exactly, where they headed. She barely had the chance to acknowledge a child-like Stella whom, judging by the elated look on her face, was having a near orgasmic experience courtesy of Manolo anf Jimmy and two dozen different types of high-heeled shoes.

All of sudden, Stefan stopped in front of a mannequin that was half hidden from view behind a japanese partition. The huge man made a grand, yet delicate gesture with his hands towards the dress placed upon it, as if saying "voilá!". Lindsay took one look at the dress... and lost her ability to speak.

The wine hued dress was a mix of diferent fabrics. It was empire waisted, and the bodice, what little there was of it, was made of crushed velvet. The skirt, in a tight yet flowy mermaid style, was made of shantung silk.

The mannequin was strategically placed to give the full impact of the sleeveless creation, which was a combination of demure and revealing. The front had a square neckline that barely hinted at the top of the breasts, and two wide straps completed the demure appearance.

And then there was the back.

Or, more accurately, there wasn't the back. The wide straps re-attached themselves right below the armpit, thus creating a loop for each arm, and achieving the illusion that there was nothing holding that dress up, except, perhaps, sheer willpower.

The back decolletage was a slanted, velvet trimmed line that began at the right side of the waist and ended just above the left hip.

All in all, the dress was a force to be reckoned with. Country pumpkin Lindsay was already making up a list of the 6 thousand reasons why she couldn't wear a dress like that. New York Lindsay was already thanking the powers above for her absence of tan lines.

When she was finally able to talk, all she could muster was a half whispered "Oh... my... God..."

"Yes, my child?"

Stefan's well-timed, irreverent one-liner seemed to get Lindsay back on the land of the talking... for good.

"I love it... but... red? And can you alter the lenght if it's too long? What kind of shoes am I going to wear with it? Should I wear my hair up or down? And wait a second... how am I supposed to hide the underwear lines???"

The designer let out a hearty laugh. "Oh, bebe! You've been converted! Hallelujah, praise the Lord! It's not red, it's wine, and yes, it's the perfect colour for you... it'll bring out your rosy skin colour and the copper highlights in your hair. Lenght is fine as it is, you're wearing stilettos for crying out loud! Hair up, definitively, with soft curls loose here and there, to play up the romantic front. Underwear? What underwear? It's not like you need tit support, bebe. And I absolutely forbid you to wear any sort of panties!!! Tigh high stockings if you choose to wear pumps, nothing if you go the strappy sandal route. Any other question?"

"No underwear... no underwear?"

"There's always a first time to go commando, bebe. Now scoot over to the shoe section and knock yourself out finding the right pair for you."

And with those parting words, Stefan grabbed a still dazed Lindsay by the shoulders and spun her in the right direction, giving her a playful swat in the arse to get her going, which she obediently did.

"Will she live?" asked Stella, approaching the designer with a metallic pair of stilettos in her hands.

"Most definitively. She'll be back for more before the end of the year. She'll soon find out for herself that listening to Stefan pays off big time. I just hope that hot detective of hers doesn't get her too worked up on the dance floor... there's no way in hell to hide a wet spot in this dress!"

"Stefan!" chided an amused Stella, "Be nice!"

"If I were nice, Bebe, you wouldn't be here to get a "fuck me" dress now, would you?"

Designer and detective exchanged knowing smiles and settled to watch how the younger woman went about her one-of-a-kind shopping experience.

Xxx XXX xxX

**A/N: ** Next stop: NYPD Fundraiser.

**A/N2: ** Best wishes to you and your families in this holiday season!


	8. Dread, dreams and desires

**A/N: **This is sort of an in-between, transitional chapter. Not exactly the Fundraiser you've been waiting for, but necessary to set the stage for it.

**A/N2: **We've moved the ante up a bit, and now this story is officially a T+. If you'd like me to move towards the full M, meaning I get to write about what happens AFTER the Fundraiser, please raise your hands.

Xxx XXX xxX

In the days in between their shopping expedition and the actual Fundraiser, both Stella and Lindsay tried to behave as normal as possible. And they almost pulled it off. Almost being the operative word here. Mac Taylor was watching them closely, and, the more he watched, the more he was dreading Friday evening.

He had put two and two together after watching a couple of exchanges between his female CSI's. Whatever it was, it was related to the Fundraiser, and damned if they weren't making him nervous.

Wednesday afternoon Lindsay had had some sort of breakdown, as she virtually begged with Stella, claiming that "she just couldn't do it" to which Stella had calmly stated that "not only she could, but she was going to. End of story". Lindsay tried changing Stella's mind for a couple more minutes, until the taller woman got stern and admonished the younger woman for "chickening out after wasting her hard earned money at Stefan's".

Hearing the designer's name, who had been for many years his wife's adoration, brought a smile to Mac's face. Having been on the receiving end of Stefan's creations a couple of times, he could understand Lindsay's apprehension in wearing whatever it was that she had gotten. He almost felt sorry for Danny. Poor guy would never be the same. On the other hand, high time those two did something about "it", whatever "it" was.

If knowing that Lindsay was going to put up an Oscar-worthy appearance on Friday was not enough to get Mac a tad worried, the scene he saw Thursday noon sent him running for the hills, or, at least, seriously considering calling a SWAT team on stand-by outside the banquet hall.

Lindsay had nearly ran over Stella on her nervous eagerness to find her at the lab. Barely containing herself, the young woman had dragged her into the nearest office, not really bothering to secure the door behind her. That's how Mac had found out that Lindsay had been coming back to the lab from her lunch break when she had been intercepted by Emma Lou Stevens who had pumped up Lindsay for info regarding Stella's dress and date for Friday. Stella kept a noncommittal expression and thanked the younger woman for the info, quickly returning to her work at the lab.

If Mac hadn't known Stella better, he might have felt as confused as Lindsay probably was feeling at the moment. But he knew Stella almost as well as he had known Claire, and that cool lack of response worried him even more than what a full fledged temper tantrum would have.

And if knowledge wasn't enough, then there was memory.

And if memory served right, Emma Lou Stevens and Stella Bonasera put together were, indeed, a bad mistake. A VERY bad mistake. He had been there the first time around, and he wasn't sure his mental health, or his job for that matter, would survive another clash of the female titans. Why on Earth had Stevens actively sought to push Stella's buttons just now was beyond his understanding, but it clearly explained why his coworker had sought Stefan's counsel.

And suddenly Mac Taylor began dreading attending the fundraiser. For the briefest of seconds he considered calling Lt. Tenorio and casually mention what was going on. But only for the briefest of moments. Mac knew without a doubt that Stella would never forgive him if he did so. And Emma Lou would certainly be clamoring for his head to the HR department, alleging harassment or something equally career damaging.

Finally, Mac decided to let sleeping dogs lie for the time being. And prayed that the worst wouldn't happen.

XXX

If Danny Messer were to be asked under oath, pleading to say nothing but the truth, so help him God, he would have willingly committed perjury. He'd much rather do jail time than admit his fondness for checking Lindsay Monroe out. Damn fine woman that she was, and Messer was sure no male jury would convict him for his mostly innocent habit.

At least during working hours. As soon as he was alone at home, "innocent" became the farthest from his mind and his fertile imagination, paired with his investigator skills, examined every lil piece of information his gazing had accumulated to set up different scenarios in which he could let his lust roam free without the actual threat of a sexual harassment suit.

It had been a while since Danny began using bits and pieces of Montana's imagery to fuel his fantasy sex life. He wasn't getting any, probably wouldn't if he had the chance, but the sexual frustration was there and he had to find a way to blow some steam off. Was it really that wrong to masturbate to images of her on an almost nightly basis? That woman drove him crazy, and Danny had the slight impression that, even if they were involved, he'd still masturbate in the shower whilst thinking of her.

He was certain he knew many things about her, and he only wished for a chance to put that knowledge into practice. He knew she was ticklish. He knew that her lower back was an erogenous zone; having placed his own hand there a couple of times whilst leading her to and from a crime scene. Her reaction to his touch had been kept professional, but Danny knew a strong female physical response when he saw/heard one, and Montana's reaction every time had been loud and clear.

He knew her skin was soft, although her hands were rougher, signaling years of hard work back at the ranch. He knew she favoured citric smells for her bath products and floral-based essences for her perfume. He knew her nipples hardened easily with temperature changes, and that when she blushed, the rosy colouring covered her whole upper body and not just her cheeks. He even knew that her heights were complementary in such way, that they could probably have sex against the wall or on a desk and his knees and lower back wouldn't be screaming murder the morning after.

On the other hand, there were so many more things he was dying to learn about her. He wondered how her skin would taste like. He wondered if she got aroused quickly or if she took her sweet time getting ready for sex. He wondered if that naughty streak he'd seen a glimpse of now and then translated to her bedroom moves, and, if so, how far was she willing to go. He wondered if she was bossy, a takeover, or of a more passive nature. If she was a screamer or a moaner. If she was adventurous or straight-laced. If she was keen of blowjobs or not, and, if she was, if she was a half-way or an all-or-nothing advocate.

But on top of everything else, Danny Messer wondered what would it feel like to finally make love to someone. Sex he knew. Love was an entirely different ball game, one he was willing to learn for Montana.

XXX

Stella laid in the arms of her lover, wondering how to break the news to him.

"Hey, lover boy, you free on Friday, right?"

"You know I'm not on call and that WE both have to attend the Fundraiser, so don't start fucking with my mind, hun, please." He was still coming down form his post-orgasmic high and he would really, really appreciate it if the darn goddess that had gotten him there mere minutes ago would allow him a couple more of perfect bliss before dragging him down to reality.

"You know, I was thinking…." Stella propped herself up a bit, resting her chin on his chest, mass of curls tumbling all over the place. "Perhaps it would be best if we arrived together…"

"Who are you and what have you done to my lover? She's never in a zillion years agree to make a public entrance… at least with me at her side."

The pain and recrimination in his voice was not lost to Stella, who was thankful for this man's understanding, and yet understood herself how he must be feeling by her paranoid sense on secrecy when it came to their relationship.

"I'm right here, lover boy." And if to make her point even clearer, she swiftly licked his left nipple, making him squirm in delight. "And I think it's about time we went public."

Stella bent forward to lick his other nipple, but he grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to look him in the face. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

Stella nodded. "Are you 100 certain that this is only about us?"

Stella nodded again. "One last chance Stel. Is this really about us or does a certain Stevens bitch have something to do with it?"

Damn. Caught! Stella knew she couldn't lie to him. "It's… complicated. It's about us, but it's also about her. If you don't want to do this, I completely understand…. I'd feel used in you place and…."

He quieted her with a kiss. "It's ok, hun. You want to do this, we'll do this. I'd feel better knowing I don't have to hide my feelings for you anymore. And if we get to screw Stevens in the process, well… more power to us, right? Besides, I'm dying to see how THAT", and he motioned towards the plastic covered dress that hung in the closet, "looks on you. No, scratch that. I want to see THAT falling off of you."

"You swine!"

"I love it when you go all British prude on me. Now tell me, my precious one, does that fabric wrinkle easily? Cause I'm getting a couple of ideas as to how…."

Xxx XXX xxX

**A/N: **Telling what Stella did to interrupt her lover's train of thought would be a tad redundant, don't you think? Please do tell if I should go back to the Holly-Go-Lightly tone of the first chapters of if you prefer this one better. But hurry up! This blue light offer will expire in 12 hours, and then I'd proceed to write the Fundraiser scene as I see fit!


	9. Envy, elevator sex and a tux

**A/N: **WARNING: This story is moving to M territory. If you're either underage, or in any way disturbed by reading consensual pshysical interaction between two adults, then perhaps it's time for you to exit left. I appreciate your interest so far!

Xxx XXX xxX

The day of the fundraiser there was a slight nervous undercurrent running throughout the whole building. Even in accounting a couple of young blond party girls were getting excited about the whole thing. Sequestered in her office, Emma Lou Stevens was relieving the memory of another fundraiser, back in 1999.

She had been in the force for merely 6 months, but she was perfectly aware of how things worked in the force, and that the best action could be found with the Homicide Detectives and the CSI's. So she had befriended the only female working in the area, Det. Stella Bonasera. She didn't particularly care about the lanky woman, but she was the perfect vehicle to befriend the hunky males she worked with. For some stupid reason she had yet to understand, that special breed of NY's finest didn't mingle with anyone outside their departments, so her chances of actually socializing with them where almost non-existent. Becoming close to Stella had been, in her opinion, a stroke of genius.

It had been so easy to gain her confidence! Emma Lou had always had the ability to detect other people's weaknesses and she usually exploited it in her favour. Stella's mistake had been to trust her with her deepest secret, that being that she had been secretly in love with Mac Taylor for the past couple of years. She had never done anything about it, mainly because she knew Mac was in a serious relationship. Stella had kept her feelings to herself, and saw no harm in confiding to the only female friend she had at work, as she was certain that it would never become public knowledge.

And it would have probably remain a secret, had she not step on Emma Lou's toes. Since it was policy that only Chiefs of Section and ranks above could bring their spouses to the party, leaving the rest of the force to improvise so-called dates among coworkers. Back then, Mac hadn't yet made entry level, so he was forced to go sans Claire, to whom he was engaged at the time. This suited Emma Lou perfectly, as she had also the hots for the handsome marine. "Engaged" was synonym to "available" in Emma Lou's book, and she had big plans for the two of them that night. To put in plainly, Emma Lou Stevens was dead set on fucking Mac Taylor before the weekend was over, and she had just the right dress to get her what she wanted.

Her plan, however, backfired. She had indeed looked ravish-able, as many of her male coworkers were quick to point out. But Stella was not only wearing one of Stefan's creations, she had also agreed to come as Mac's date, and she was planning to live the part for all it was worth... within acceptable limits. None of this was acceptable for Emma Lou, who was a lousy loser, and who favoured the "if I can't have him, no one else can" philosophy. As soon as dinner was over, the admin employee let the proverbial cat out of the bag, publicly humiliating Stella by bringing attention to her crush on Mac.

Emma Lou had hoped that Stella would wither and die after such revelation, but she had miscalculated the strength of the tall woman, so she resorted to more "catty" maneuvers, accusing Stella of trying to bed Mac and destroying his relationship with Claire. Emma Lou went as far as calling Stella a "tramp", and that did it for Stella's patience. Evening gown be damned, the two women were soon rolling on the floor, ripping hair and accessories in their brawl.

Physically, Emma Lou got the worse part. Same went for her social standing, as she was no longer considered "personna grata" in many departments, including her own. Work-wise, however, Stella got the loosing hand. Even after all this years the incident was still written in her record, and it resurfaced over and over again whenever her character and efficiency was called into question. Emma Lou? She had been let go with simply a hand slap and a warning never to behave so childishly in public, again.

Fast forward seven years. Emma Lou hadn't exactly forgiven Stella for ruining what surely would have been "her" night, but she hadn't found the right timing for her vengeance. This year, however, she had been playing close attention to the rumour mill, and it seemed that not only Stella had a female protegee in the department, she was also seeing a YOUNGER guy as well. Emma Lou felt entitled to create havoc in Stella's life and the timing seemed right: she's loose a friend and a lover. Plus, she had also heard that Mac was seemingly finally coming out of his grieving period, and he was still quite bedable. Doable. Fuckable.

All in all, the upcoming fundraiser was indeed the perfect time for Emma Lou to sow her oaths... and she could hardly wait. Stella Bonasera was getting what was coming to her.

Xxx XXX xxX

Stella had to supress a smile when she saw him in the elevator. She ackowledged his presence with a nod and began chatting with the two lab analysts that were also riding in the car whilst he pretended to be engrossed in the file he had in his hand. But as soon as the other girls had left the car, he quickly moved to stand behind her.

"Need I remind you that there are video cameras inside the elevator?" She asked in hushed tones, shivering a bit from his closeness.

"Video feed only, no audio. I know. Otherwise you'de be trapped between my body and the elevator wall right now..."

The implications of his words hit Stella hard, and she could feel arousal coming off his body as well as hers. He wasn't making things easier for her, pretending to drop the file and usind the opportunity to caress her lower legs.

"Stop it! Or..."

"Or what?"

Stella didn't have a clue how to finish her treath, since having him pull his hands off her was the farthest thing in her mind. This man knew exactly how to act to make her feel not only loved and protected, but desired as well, and he had soon learned just how to touch her to leave her dizzy with need.

"My, my, Det. Bonasera, cat got your tongue? That would be such a shame... I've grown fond of it and its talents. Maybe I could help getting yours back by using mine, whatcha think?" He was standing right behind her, half whispering and without actually touching her, but Stella felt as though he had set her on fire. "You know what I'd love to do just now? Run my tongue on the insides of your tighs. You taste so damn good... and the view... magnificent... if it weren't for the camera I'd push the stop button and drop to my knees in front of you... and I'd lick and kiss my way into your orgasm. I love it when you come in my mouth Stella..."

Just then, the elevator stopped and the doors opened, and he left the car without another word. Stella willed herself to remain sready for another two floors, but as soon as she got to her destination, she ran out of the elevator and collapsed on the first available chair she found. "Damn him!" she thought, "the bloody man can make me come just by taking sex to me!"

A noise behind her alerted her to the presence of someone else in the room, and she quickly tried to recover her composure. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Danny Messer getting a fresh cup of coffee and throwing worrisome looks he way. Stella quickly got up, grabbed a lab coat, and left the resting lounge...

Xxx XXX xxX

... leaving a slightly confused Danny Messer behind. "Huh" he thought to himself, "If I didn't know better, I'd have sworn Stella was having a near orgasmic experience just now."

He chastised himself for the thought. "Not everyone in this lab is a horny dog like you, Messer, so cool it."

Easier said that done, though. After 2 weeks of agonizing over it, he had finally gathered the courage to ask Lindsay as his date to the Fundraiser. She had quickly answered that she was arriving with Stella, but, and she hurriedly added this upon noticing Danny's crestfallen expression, she'd gladly dance with him after dinner. To Danny, those words were like music to his ears. So what if he hated to dance? It might very well be the only chance he'd ever have of having Montana in his arms.

That had been two days ago, and now Danny was nervous as hell. He had gone all the way and rented a tux, for once not complaining about the cost, deeming it "money well spent". He had asked Montana what colour dress she was wearing so he colud get a matching bow and waistband. He prayed that no one else but her would notice it, for he was sure he'd never live down the jokes at Headquarter's shower room. The things he did for Lindsay Monroe...

Xxx XXX xxX

**A/N: **We're slowly, but surely getting there. Just a couple more loose ends to tie in before hitting that party. Please tell me if you're enjoying the ride so far...


	10. Shattering flutes

**A/N: ** Since FF mail service ain't working just now, I'd like to take the opportunity to thank Kavi Leighanna, all the glitters, SallyJetson (thanks for the "spiritual" offer!), cyko1003, dddyanmite (you have my blessing to start Emma Lou's anti-fan club), I Can Hear the Sea, mercy4vr, imaguestage (IMHO, Danny Messer is the perfect mix of gentleman and caveman), pico-mundo-resident, chili-peppers, wolfsong98, Little Corinthian and wolfmyjic for the kind reviews you've sent my way. Hope I don't dissapoint!

**A/N2: ** Happy New Year to all of you!

Xxx XXX xxX

Stella went looking for Lindsay and found the young woman a bundle of nerves.

"I'm not going to be able to do it, Stella. I'm gonna blow it, I know. I'm a total klutz! You can pull it off, but I can't, I mean, I'm not tall, I'm not pretty, I .. I... and then... oh Lord what was I thinking? Danny. Danny wants to dance with me and.. and... Oh FUCK!"

Stella was leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over her chest, allowing Lindsay to let it all out. "You done?"

"Huh?"

"I asked if you're done talking shit. Looks that way. I got us appointments at 4:00 pm with Victoria for hair and make-up..."

"Make-up? But I..."

"Lindsay... please don't tell me you were planning on doing your make-up yourself cause I might for one minute forget how much I love you and slap you back into your senses. Now, as I was saying, we're leaving at 3 o'clock, sharp. Don't make me come looking for you!"

And with that, Stella left, leaving behind a dumbstruck Lindsay. "Make-up" she thought once more. "Dear Lord, what have I gotten myself into?"

Xxx XXX xxX

At 7:00 pm Lindsay was nervously pacing up and down her apartment, waiting for Stella and her date to pick her up. Every 12 steps or so, she'd look at her reflection in the hallway mirror, wondering every time who exactly was this stranger looking back at her. The revealing dress, the hair piled up, with loosened tendrils here and there, the smoky eyes, the dark lipstick that made her mouth seem voluptuous and luscious...

Lindsay shivered and was, once more, grateful for the crushed velvet at the bodice of her dress. The softer fabric used everywhere else wouldn't do anything to disguise the fact that her nipples were hardened due to the cold, or the excitement, or both. She couldn't quite believe she was actually fully naked underneath the dress. Except for the stockings, that is. She had found, and fallen in love with, a pair of rich dark red hued pumps with 4 inch heels. They were taller than anything she'd ever worn, but they complemented the dress so perfectly, they were worth the effort.

Her buzzer rang and Lindsay grabbed her coat and purse, keys jingling in her hand due to her nervousness. "If only dad could see me now", she thought, "On second thought, better not go there" she mused, remembering all too vividly how vocal Mr.Monroe was regarding modesty in dress and how he "hadn't raised his daughters to behave like tramps".

Lindsay reach the bottom of her building's stairs and greeted Stella, who managed to look even better that she had back at the beauty parlor. "You look great!" she squealed.

The older woman hugged her and held her at arm lenght, appreciating the final effect. "You are gorgeous... bebe."

Lindsay laughed out loud, fondly remembering the huge designer who had somehow managed to give her a Cinderella experience. Just then she heard the car's door opening, and her mouth fell open when she realized who was the man getting out from behind the driver's seat. She stood there, speechless and slightly shocked, while Stella's date appraised her with a smile and a low wolf-whistle.

"You look real good, kiddo."

Lindsay couldn't think of a single word to say to him. Instead, she turned to Stella and whispered: "You...you! No wonder you look so happy these days... Man... he looks so fucking hot in that tux... Emma Lou is going to have a friggin' heart attack once she sees you two together..."

"That's more less the general idea, Linds", Stella replied, getting into the car, still smiling from Lindsay's reaction.

Xxx XXX xxX

At 7:30 that evening Danny Messer was beginning to wonder what on Earth he was doing there, dressed like a fuckin' penguin and what could be keeping Montana from showing up.

The minute he had sat down at the CSI's table there had been a continuous flow of women dropping by just to "say hi" and he had been attentive, yet dismissive with all of them, and all of them had taken the hint amd moved along. All except this one trampy bimbo from admin who didn't seem to be getting his "not interested" vibe. She was wearing a tacky, trashy white dress that was barely on this side of decent, and she was putting all the by-the-book moves on him: leg crossing, leaning to give him an even better view of her boobs, touching his arm and leg ever so slightly, making a point of getting close to his ear when talking...

Danny was honest enough with himself to admit that 6 months prior he would have gone for that. Heck, he'd probably be banging her by now and most probably would end up at her place fucking away the rest of the weekend. But that was then. Right now he couldn't wait to get rid of her. All he wanted right then and there was Montana, and she was taking her sweet time arriving.

"So, ahh, Detective Messer, I was, like, thinking, and uh, maybe we could just, like, forget, the dancing part and like, move, to a privater place to , you know, like, get to know each other better?"

The voice, the words, her looks... everything was grating his nerves. Danny Messer decided that enough was enough.

"Listen, Brittany Mae or whatever your name is. I. Am. Not. Interested. You're NOT my type and you're NOT the woman I want to leave with tonight, ok? So do us both a favour and leave me alone and go find a lab rat or a number cruncher who hasn't gotten laid since this century began and make HIS day, k? Bye"

And with that, Danny Messer stood up and left the table, leaving behind a very bewildered young woman.

Xxx XXX xxX

Mac Taylor was having second thoughts about the whole deal. He loved her, he was certain of that, but despite what he'd told her, he wasn't 100 sure that going public with their relationship right then and there was the most intelligent thing to do. Of course, he would never tell her that. He knew women well enough as to realize that she would take it as a personal rejection, and that would surely damage beyond repair their budding relationship.

It's just that... he doesn't like feeling vulnerable, and that's exactly how she made him feel. She also made him feel alive again, when he thought he'd spend the rest of his life mourning for his loss. There were so many things he was thankful for, and she came first place in his list.

Whom wasn't on it, however, and was headed his way with a malicious grin plastered on her face, was Emma Lou Stevens. Mac felt himself grimace and wondered why Stella was taking so long...

Xxx XXX xxX

"Lindsay? You coming?"

Stella was starting to feel nervous. As soon as they had arrived Lindsay had headed into the bathroom and was taking so long that Stella was beginning to wonder if the young CSI was planning to spend the whole night holed up in there.

"Go ahead, I'll be right out."

"Are you sure?"

Lindsay sighed. It was now or never. She took a deep breath and came out of the stall. "I'm ready. Let's do this before I change my mind".

Xxx XXX xxX

At 8:00 sharp, the two female CSIs made their entrance in to the banquet hall: Lindsay Monroe holding her breath, Stella Bonasera holding the hand of her lover, whom, in turn, was holding her lovingly in his gaze.

Xxx XXX xxX

Emma Lou Stevens was feeling confident. Why shouldn't she, if she was leaning on Mac Taylor's arm whilst drinking from a champagne flute? She was really the belle of the ball and had confidence that nothing, abolutely nothing could ruin her night. Granted, she wasn't a young spring chicken anymore, and time hadn't been all that generous with her, but she still had a nice enough figure and the expensive black designer gown she was wearing made her feel like a million dollars. Plus, she WAS with Mac Taylor, who was acting nervously around her, which was an inequivocal sign that he was interested.

When she heard some hushed murmurings around her, she turned around to see what the conmotion was all about. Then she saw Stella Bonasera looking even better than she had 15 years ago. And then she saw a very un-country pumpkin Lindsay Monroe, exuding sophistication and sex-appeal. And then she saw that man that was KISSING Stella Bonaser for the whole world to see.

And then her champagne flute shattered on the floor.

Xxx XXX xxX

Brittany Mae was nursing a drink and complaining to her buddy about the humiliation Danny Messer had just inflicted on her, when she noticed that Anabella Sue had stopped paying attention to her and was staring open mouthed towards the door.

"Bitch! I'm like opening my heart in here and you're like so not paying attention! What can be, like, so interesting, that you stopped listening?"

Anabella Sue grabbed her friend's face and without much ceremony yanked her until she was watching Lindsay Monroe come into the room.

"Her. That's who I'm watching. She's like, HOT. No wonder Danny boy dumped you, bitch, you look , like, skanky, next to her! So NOT hot..."

Brittany Mae took one look at Lindsay and turned back to the bartender. "I wanna get drunk, like, fast."

Xxx XXX xxX

Danny Messer had ordered a glass of wine and was on his way back from the bar when he happened to glance towards the door... and the world around him ceased to exist.

Xxx XXX xxX

**A/N:** Whatcha mean, not fair? This is, like, the longest chapter I've written so far!

You wanted to know what happened when those two got the party, right? You wanted to know who Stella's lover was, no? You coulnd't wait for Danny's rection now, could you?

Oh.,.. you mean you want MORE? Oh! My bad!


	11. A Marine's honor and a Gentleman's libid

A/N: Jeez ladies, you make me feel like the wicked witch of the west! But ain't cliffies a great way to get reviews without actually asking for them? ) 

Xxx XXX xxX

And then Lindsay Monroe turned around. 

Danny's self began playing tug-o-war. His gentlemanly side wanted to run to her and throw his tux jacket to cover her. His libido was gleefully dancing: "She's naked underneath that dress! There's no fucking way she is wearing anything underneath that! Yee-ha! Party time!" Libido won, hands down, and Danny was VERY glad that he hadn't taken his tux jacket off in the first place. To say the trousers of his tux were beginning to feel a tad too tight across the groin was an understatement. 

Realizing he wasn't the only red-blooded male in the room, he quickly strode to her side, staking his territory.

"Well, hello Ms. Monroe, you REALLY do clean up nice." He greeted her, and lowering a bit to whisper on her ear, "More than nice, actually."

Lindsay shivered upon feeling his voice so close to her ear. And she wondered for the millionth time if Danny Messer knew the impact he had on her. The sound of his voice, the smell of his hair after he'd taken a shower, the glint in his eyes when he smiled, the feel of his muscles flexing under her hands, the taste of his sweat when she grazed his forehead with her lips after he had, once more, taken an unnecessary risk... he aroused each and every one of her senses separately, and put together, Daniel Messer was virtually impossible to resist.

She turned to look at him, and their eyes met and held. So many things were said without saying one single word, the fire in their gaze apparent to all of those around them. "If those two don't get a room soon, we'll find ourselves with a case of human spontaneous combustion" muttered Sheldon Hawkes to nobody in particular, after having witnessed the smoldering exchange. Luckily for themselves, Danny decided right then to escort Lindsay to their table. Everyone else watching had to content themselves watching how Danny's protective arm surrounded Lindsay, and how she allowed herself to be pampered and adored by him. Half the party goers that night wished they were either him or her...

Xxx XXX xxX

The rest were discreetly following Stella Bonasera and her beau as they made their way through the room towards Mac Taylor... and Emma Lou Stevens.

Stella hugged Mac and kissed him familiarly on the cheek, masterfully sidestepping Emma Lou, before turning and addressing her office nemesis.

"Oh, hi Emma Lou. Didn't see you there. Nice dress you're wearing. Channel, right? From two seasons ago, if I remember correctly. Lovely, really. Must have cost you a fortune. But you look divine. Really."

"Stella. I've got to admire your keen eye for fashion, dear. And what is it you're wearing? A Roberto Cavalli? One has to admire how you can manage such things on your salary..."

"You think it's a Cavalli? How gracious of you! This is a present form a designer friend. He just KNOWS how to bring out the best in me. Don't you love that from tailored for you clothing? It's something that you just can't get form off the rack clothes... no matter how fancy the rack, don't you think?"

Stella smiled sweetly, and then went in for the kill. 

"Oh, but silly me. Where I my manners? I believe you two haven't met yet. Emma Lou Stevens, this is..."

The man standing next to her was quick to cut the introduction short by giving Emma Lou a perfunctory handshake. "Yeah, I know who she is. She's one of the nice ladies in accounting that make sure we get our paychecks on time." Turning to Stella, he said: "Come on, babe, let's grab something to eat. I plan on dancing with you all night long and can't do that on an empty stomach..."

"Mac, ma'am" he added, before whisking Stella away.

Emma Lou was trembling with rage. How dare Stella Bonsera insult her like that! But she kept her temper under wraps, realizing that, as long as Stella had her boy toy, SHE got to keep Mac Taylor to herself. She turned to him, regaling him with the brightest smile she could fake under the circumstances.

"Well!", she said, "that was... hmm... peculiar."

"You think so?"

"Well, yes. Don't you? I mean, a woman like Stella..." Emma Lou allowed the phrase to hang unfinished, waiting for Mac to comment on the fact that the older detective was behaving unbecomingly.

"Yes. You're right. A woman like Stella is a rare find. Not only is she a beautiful woman inside and out, but she's also caring, nurturing, compassionate, committed to her job. I consider myself lucky to call her my partner and friend, and any other guy would be a lucky son of a bitch to have her as a lover. And HIM," Mac motioned towards the couple who was behaving sickeningly in love, with him feeding her grapes whilst she rested her head in his shoulder, acknowledging each bite with a feather-like kiss on his lips, "HE has been in love with her since forever and I'm very glad he finally decided to do something about it. They both deserve it, don't you think?"

Emma Lou felt Mac Taylor's eyes piercing her and she could barely prevent herself from squirming. "Bad choice of strategy" she chided herself, "but the situation is still salvageable".

"Oh yes, Mac. I couldn't agree with you more. They make such a charming couple. And I am SO happy for them." Emma Lou placed her hand on Mac's arm and regaled him with a seductive smile. "What do you say if we grab a couple of seats in Sgt. Barrett's table and have dinner together?"

Mac shifted positions, wondering how he was going to turn her down, when a petite figure worked her way between his arms and, standing on tip-toe, briefly kissed him on the lips.

"I'm so sorry, darling, I know how you hate it when I'm late, but Sid couldn't find the copy of the autopsy report we had to turn in tonight and we had to do it all over again..."

Emma Lou stood still, with a shocked expression in her face. "This CAN'T be happening. How couldn't I see this coming? Who the fuck is this bitch...?"

The dark haired "bitch" turned towards Emma Lou with the most innocent of smiles on her face. "Thank you so much for keeping my boyfriend company while I arrived! Oh, sorry, I don't think we've met. I'm Dr. Peyton Driscoll, from the ME? Mac, Sheldon and the guys are waiting for us to start the meal. We better hurry. A pleasure to meet you, ma'am." 

Mac held Peyton's hand and turned to Emma Lou. "Hope it can be said WE won't be seeing you around, Emma Lou. Have a nice evening."

If Emma Lou Stevens had any doubt on the meaning conveyed by his words, the cold glint in Mac's eyes carried the message loud and clear. The man was, after all, a marine.

And everyone knew that, when it came to them, if you messed with one, you messed with them all.

Xxx XXX xxX

A/N: I almost felt sorry for Emma Lou. Did you?


	12. Time to Come Clean

**A/N: **All right people. You've been generous beyond my wildest dreams and for that, I'm thankful. Only one more station to go before this train reaches its final destination.

Xxx XXX xxX

Six pairs of eyes had witnessed the exchange between Mac Taylor and Emma Lou Stevens and were now busy pretending they hadn't done it as Mac and Peyton approached their table.

"I almost feel sorry for her.." commented Sheldon.

"I don't. She's a real bitch. Half the squad hates her guts." This, from Det. Angell.

"Will she try to get back at us using our paychecks?" wondered Lindsay, remembering the large chunk this affair had taken off her available credit.

"I'd love to see her try that. Let's see how she explains to the higher ups why the whole CSI department is suing her for illegally withholding our pay." Danny grabbed another grape and popped it into his mouth, swirling it around with his tongue. Lindsay next to him inhaled deeply at the stream of x-rated thoughts the sight had provoked in her.

"All I can say is that she had it coming. I could have very well let bygones be bygones, but she felt compelled to humiliate me any chance she got. Enough was enough." Stella explained.

"You don't have to explain. We saw it. We heard her..."

"And hopefully," Mac added sitting down next to them, "we'll never have to do either one again. And Stella, if that woman gets close to you ever again, you come to me, ok? As much as I admire Stefan's work, I'm not sure retail backlash is as effective as a restraining order. Do I make myself clear?"

Stella agreed by giving him a half-nod. 

"Good!" exclaimed Sheldon, "Now let's eat something before our beloved bosses here start with the show and tell. What?" he asked, noticing the shocked expressions on Mac and Stella's faces, "You guys seriously don't think that you'd finally come out in public with your significant others and get to walk away without spilling the juicy details?"

Xxx XXX xxX

As much as Dany was enjoying watching Mac and Stella squirm and ahem under the fire of their not-so innocent questions, he couldn't help to feel nervous regarding what was still ahead. It wouldn't be long before someone suggested getting up to dance, and unless he wanted to loose Lindsay to any other hormonally fueled detective in the party, he was going to HAVE to dance with her.

It wasn´t that he didn't like dancing. It wasn't his favourite activity, granted, but he was fine with it. It wasn't that he didn't know how to dance; his mamma had made sure that all her bambini knew how to treat a lady right, and that included dancing. Not only waltz, but swingy rock n' roll and even some attempted salsa. No. What Danny Messer was dreading was the exact moment that he'd have to dance with Lindsay that night. 

He had studied her dress ever since he had seen her and he knew that the damn thing presented two huge hurdles when it came to dancing. Namely, where to put his hands. Normally, he's place them on his date's back or, if they had been intimate enough, on her hips. And if he was feeling really really frisky, or horny, or was just plain wasted, he'd simply grab her ass. But that wasn't the case here. Ok, he was horny as hell, but damned if he was going to put his drunken ass moves on Montana's ass in front of the whole force to see.

So that brought him back to his dilemma. Where to put his hands. He figured one would be busy holding Lindsay's own, but the other? There was no way in hell he could put in on her bare back and not end up ravishing her behind the curtains. What little fabric there was covering her rear end was too low to be considered appropriate, and it would also serve as a reminder that she wasn't wearing any panties, thus bringing him back to the aforementioned ravishing. Either way, he was screwed.

Xxx XXX xxX

Lindsay Monroe was trying her damned hardest to keep her cool. Not only was it difficult not to react to the sled of looks she was getting, it was damn near impossible not to react to the amount of heat Danny Messer was generating next to her. And she knew that the minute he touched her and pulled her close to him she was going to be a goner. And, judging by the way her coworkers had been behaving the last half hour, they were sure to have a field day getting in her case.

She began wondering, and not for the first time, if getting involved with Danny was really such a bad thing. She knew it was, and not because of him, The poor man had no need to be dealing with HER demons, or fighting HER battles for her. And still... she wanted to be with him so badly, she was sure she wasn't going to be able to resist his touch. She was going to mold her body to his and she was going to get intoxicated by the smell of his cologne, and she was going to surrender to the sound of his voice and the moment his hand touched her skin she was certainly going to orgasm, and all in all, make a complete and utter fool of herself in front of the whole department and she'd be so better off keeping way from him...

But not dancing with him wasn't even an option.

Xxx XXX xxX

By 10 pm, the dance floor was full and the CSI's table was empty.

Sheldon Hawkes and Det. Angell had bid their farewells early, as they were both on call and they both had a pending case downstairs.   
Mac Taylor and Payton Driscoll were softly swaying to the music, oblivious to anyone around them.

"It wasn't that bad, was it?" asked the doctor.

Mac cringed at the memory of the third degree they had just gotten. "I don't want to know what your definition of bad is, dear... but I'll concede that it could have been a lot worse than it actually was."

They danced in silence for a minute or two close together. Mac brought her hand to his lips and placed a tender kiss on her fingertips. Then he slid it until he placed an open mouth kiss on her palm. "Let's go home," he murmured, and they both grabbed their belongings and proceeded to quietly leave the banquet hall unnoticed...

...by all, except for a pair of female eyes. Emma Lou Stevens was sitting by herself, having the biggest pity party of her life. People had been avoiding her all night, ever since her fateful encounter with the CSIs, and she was beginning to understand that the unwelcoming feeling was going to extend to working hours as well.

"Fools", she thought to herself, "they actually think the won! They still don't know who they're messing with..." And as if to prove her right, just then Lt. Tenorio approached her table and sat down with her. "Ha! Take that you fools! The higher ups still seek my presence!"

Emma Lou turned towards Lt. Tenorio, all gracious smiles and charm. "How very nice of you to join me, Lieutenant!"

Lt. Tenorio, an imposing woman in her early 50's, raised her hand to cut the accountant short. "Stevens, this isn't a social call. It's been brought to my attention that you've been in some sort of personal vendetta against Det. Stella Bonasera, is that right?"

"Listen, Lt. I can explain that, It's nothing like what you're implying..."

"Stevens... Eight years ago I made the mistake of taking your side after you and Bonasera got into a fight. I've been hearing rumours, DISTURBING rumours, regarding your behavior leading to that incident. Not only that, but from what I've been hearing, you've made a point that every single head department in the force REMEMBERED that incident whenever Bonasera's name was brought up either for promotion or demotion. I don't have tolerance, or use, for two-faced, back-stabbing bitches in MY command, and that's EXACTLY how you've been behaving Stevens."

Emma Lou had not made it this far in the game by taking the passive approach, so she decided to defend herself, claws and fangs out for the kill. "Lieutenant, I can understand the way you feel and I deeply regret that you've been played this way by Bonsera and Taylor, whom are both clearly behind all this..."

The cold look Lt. Tenorio zoomed on Emma Lou was enough to cut her tirade short. The older woman sighed and shook her head. "Stevens, a part of me was hoping that you were a better person. But sadly, I've been proven wrong. I have 8 people from all over the Force vouching for Bonasera's character and integrity. Want to know how many were willing to go out on a limb for you? None. Quite the opposite, as a matter of fact. I still don't know how this is going to reflect in your next year evaluation, I still have to work that out with the union representative, but I can tell you this: if you EVER come near any of the CSIs, or if I hear there's as much as half a penny missing in their accounts, I will make it my personal mission to dig up every single spec of dirt anyone has on you and I WIL ruin you. Am I making myself clear?"

Emma Lou had been shocked beyond speech for the third time that evening, and all she managed to do was nod. She watched Lt. Tenorio walk away from the table and knew it was over. Trying to stop the tears until she had reached the privacy of her car, she grabbed her purse and left the banquet hall, totally defeated, dragging what was left of her dignity behind her.

Xxx XXX xxX

Stella Bonasera had watched the whole exchange and was now feeling pangs of guilt. Sure, she wanted Emma Lou to have a taste of her own poison, but she never intended for things to get this bad for the other woman.

"Maybe I should talk with Lt. Tenorio..." she mused.

Don Flack looked at the woman he was holding in his arms. Stuff like this was what made him cherish her even more. He pondered if it would help any if he mentioned that one of the people that had stood up for her was his dad. Flack Sr. wasn't that thrilled when he heard his son was intent on shacking with an older woman, but he had been a lot more understanding when he heard who it was. Stella had been a rookie fresh out of the Academy the only time they had worked together, but the seasoned veteran knew a good thing when he saw one. Apparently, his kid had recognized it as well.

"Stella, luv, listen to me and listen to me good. Emma Lou Stevens has been bad news for years. Not only for you, but for everyone around here. Sooner or later, she was going to have to face the music. Don't waste another moment of your life worrying about her. She brought this up upon herself."

Stella sighed and burrowed deeper in Don's arms, resting her head against between his neck and shoulders. And for the first time in a long time, she felt safe.

Xxx XXX xxX

**A/N: ** Ok, now the cat is out of the bag, and the baddies got their just punishment. Why do I have this nagging feeling that I'm forgetting something???

**A/N2: ** Anyone else beside me keep having flashes of S. Ephata Merkerson (Lt. Anita Van Buren from "L&O") whenever they "hear" Lt. Tenorio?


	13. Slurring and seducing

**A/N: **FF seems to be back on track... sorta. I'm getting the same reviews 3 or 4 times and some reviews I've seen on-line have yet to make an appearance, so I'd like to thank all of you for being such constant readers and nice reviewers:

Wolfmyjic Wjobsessed Marue61 truebluepatfan12 SallyJetson RosaRuse Star Fata ChibiHeart Chili-peppers CSIMel Catey123 Mercy4vr I Can Hear the Sea The Little Corinthian Chelliyah PenguinGoddess my-sparkles Princess of Peas Dddynamite GinaJas MesserMontana4ever Wolfsong98 Imaguestage Kavi Leighanna cyko1003 pico-mundo-resident

The ride wouldn't have been hald as delightful as it's been thanks to your reviews, comments, quotes, fave one-liners, smut obsessions, Emma Lou's anti-fan club, on-going poll as to who was Stella's mistery man, devouted DL go,go,go! cheering...

Ladies, it's been a privilege.

Xxx XXX xxX

As soon as the band began playing Glenn Miller themes, Danny and Lindsay knew the moment of truth had arrived, and there was no way they could keep postponing the unavoidable much longer.

Danny stood up and extended his hand towards her. "Wanna dance, Montana?"

Lindsay looked at the extended hand and then up towards the piercing blue eyes and nodded. Normally, Danny would place his hand in the lower back of his date to lead the way, but given the circumstances, he made do by taking her hand and leading her behind him, which in itself was kinda sweet, or so Lindsay thought.

Danny's "hand" dilemma was far from being solved, yet he thought he had found a happy medium: he'll just hold her in his arms and pray for the best. Granted, it wasn't the brightest of solutions, but given the circumstances... it was even worse than trying to improvise whilst trapped inside a panic room.

Once they got to the dance floor, Danny gently took Lindsay's arms and placed them over his shoulders, then proceeded to wrap his own around her waist. They were close, perhaps too close, but at least it prevented their hands to start roaming over each other's bodies, which would surely be the beginning of their end.

They danced in complete silence, Lindsay resting her head on the crook of his neck, Danny resting his atop of hers. They had been moving to the tune of all-time classics, keeping friction to the minimum, and still, they had managed to generate enough heat to keep a small European country warm throughout January. Sooner or later, something had to give. And by the time the first notes of "Fly Me to the Moon" washed over the ballroom, something did.

Xxx XXX xxX

"I, like, fu-fy-foggin 'ate her. Ma-mannny was, like, so mine! Why did sh-sh-she had to sh-sh-show up???"

Annabella Sue wondered, for the umpteenth time that night, why she had agreed to come with Brittany Mae to the fund raiser. Or why she had come at all. Her so-called friend had been rejected big time by a guy who was supposed to bed anything that moved, Brit had, like, gotten trashed big time as well. So not appealing to other guys who coulda hit on them.

"What she have that I don't?", wailed the drunken girl, miserably, "Sh-she's only country hick. A hick! I'm a Yorker! Yorker fr-from Br-Brooklyn!"

Anna rolled her eyes. She had heard the same line, like, two thosand times already. Brit was such a cry-baby! And she was so irritating! Anna was like, this close, to bitch-slap her...

"Looka'em! They're like, all over each other! That shouldabe me... shouldabe... me..."

That did it. Annabella Sue shoved Brittany Mae and the inebriated girl slid to the floor in a rather unfemenine and unflattering way, and there she remained, blubbering and hiccuping until a waiter took pity of her and propped her down at a nearby table, where she proceeded to pass out in 20 seconds flat.

None of this, however, was witnessed by Annabella Sue. She had taken one last look at the CSI's, who were so hot for each other it was amazing they weren't physically on fire. And then her gaze had fallen onto a cute blond lab rat who was smiling shyly at her. The girl pondered for a second: she could keep watching as the soft porn began to unveil on the dance floor. Or, she could take a gamble and, if luck was on her side, maybe star in her own production, Looking to see if the lovebirds had upgraded to petting, she returned the smile and walked towards the lab tech.

Xxx XXX xxX

Danny could feel his self-restraint faltering. Lindsay had been humming to good Ole Blue Eyes all-time favourite, no doubt out of nervousness and preferance, and he had nothing against humming to a classic love song. Problem was, every note Lindsay exhaled, it reverberated on his chest, and blew warm air on his neck. Both things, isolated, weren't such a big deal. They were actually endearing.

And such a frigging turn on.

He was slowly loosening his grip around Lindsay's waist and felt both elated and terrified. His hands were itching to be let free. Danny remembered his mother's words regarding idle hands doing the work of the devil, and since he felt his sanity was being blown to hell, thought the old saying to be quite adequate.

"Montana?", he said, half-whispering, not entirely trusting his own voice.

"Hmmm?"

Lindsay's voice had a half-asleep quality, a sexy rasp, and a dreamy undertone. All put together became Danny's undoing. There was only so much a guy could take without reaching the point of no return, and both Messer and Montana had been teethering on the edge for darn too long. He wanted her. He wanted her badly. So far, the gentleman in him had been able to keep the caveman under control, but Danny wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to do that. So, he decided to risk it.

"Ya know, Montana, I've been wondering about you..."

Lindsay tensed up momentarily. Damn fine time Messer picked up to try and make her talk about her past!

"Really?" Danny couldn't see her face, but he could almost "hear" the raised eyebrow in her question.

"Yeah. Really. And I've been wondering for a long time. Maybe even since that day at the zoo..."

Lindsay lifted her head quickly. "What the heck? Ever since we met?" Danny sensed her shift in mood and mentally kicked himself in the ass. He had less than 5 seconds to say the right thing or the window of opportunity would be unceremoniously shut in his face. So he went for it.

"I've been wondering what it would be like to make love to you."

Xxx XXX xxX

**A/N:** I know. I said I was gonna wrap it here. But the muse refused to do it (between you and me, I'll say she's superstitious and wasn't happy with the idea of having 13 chapters) and you don't argue with the muse. Besides, you know me... I would never ever be able to resist a cliffie like this now, would I? ;)


	14. As the old saying says

**A/N: ** Thank you for flying Fox Airlines. Please remain seated and with your seatbelts on unti all movement ceases and the captain turns on the "The End" sign. Hope you enjoyed your trip with us.

Xxx XXX xxX

Lindsay's mouth opened in shock and her throat went dry. Her nether regions, however, were experiencing quite the opposite. Who would have known a single phrase could turn her on so... so intensely? Fortunately for her, her arms were still around Danny's neck and his arms were still somewhat holding her, cause otherwise she's be sprawled on the floor by now. Which would be a very bad thing, cause knowing Danny he was bound to try and help her up, and, knowing herself, she was bound to pull him down on top of her...

She shook her head trying to rid it for X-rated thoughts. Danny's eyes were desperately searching her face for any indication of her reaction and she couldn't, for the life of either one of them, come up with the right one. The right one, in this case, being a socially accepted one, that is. Given the chance, Lindsay would clear up each and every doubt Danny had regarding her. Actually, she'd have started... satisfying... his curiosity some half hour ago had they been alone.

But they weren't. And if Danny had stumbled along the path of righteousness, she'd have to be the strong one. Mind over matter, or, in this case, mind over gutter... er... mind over flesh, work over sex. Saint Montana, standing tall and strong against temptation. Stoicism was her middle name. Mentally ravishing him whilst lying in her bed was fine; physically doing so in the middle of the dance floor was not.

And perhaps Lindsay would have gotten away with kidding herself, had it not been for the object of her affection. Danny Messer took things into his own hands, literally, to destroy what little resolve she thought she had. Almost simultaneously, he slid his tongue over his lips AND his hands over her back. Individually, each action was hard to resist. Together, resistance became an impossibility.

Less than a minute after he had stated his doubt, Lindsay Monroe, aka Messer's Montana, pulled his face down and kissed him for all she was worth. 

Months of building sexual tension came crashing down the minute her tongue made it inside his mouth. This wasn't the soft, covert, almost tentatively exploratory first kiss he had envisioned theirs to be, but more of a full frontal, direct, needy attack, but who was he to complain? Here they were, kissing fervently like there was no tomorrow, and damned if he was going to be questioning the lack of finesse and tenderness he had always associated with this moment. Not that HE didn't want their first kiss to be this hot, mind you, but he had always assumed Montana to be more romantic than sexual when it came to their first kiss.

Or second. Or third. Or whatever number they were on, he'd lost count. Her hands were all over his face and hair and neck and shoulders, and he figured that what was good for the goose would be fine for the gander, so he allowed his hands to do as they pleased. And if touching his Montana like this was the devil's work, merry ride into Hell he'd have! They worked they way all over her naked back to her shoulders and neck, and then back. He had managed to resist the urge to tangle them in her hair, thus destroying her hairdo, but he hadn't been able to resist grazing the sides of her breasts or finally getting physical confirmation that she was, indeed, completely naked underneath that blessed dress.

When they finally broke up their mouth's affair, Danny was holding her face and Lindsay's hands were resting on his chest. He rested his forehead on hers, trying to calm down enough to be able to speak with some degree of coherence, but listening to their labored breathing wasn't making things easier. Lindsay thought that perhaps she should do the talking, try at least some form of salvage mission, but was too afraid to open her mouth. She had the slight suspicion that if she did, the first words that would come out would be "Please fuck me, Danny"... so she kept quiet.

"Montana..."

"Yeah?"

"On scale of one to ten, I'd give your response an eleven based only on originality only. But it didn't do anything to answer my question. Quite the contrary actually." Danny stopped and swallowed hard, his breathing still heavy, her knees still weak. "I'm dying here, Montana. Please help me. If I taste you... if I touch you one more time I won't be able to hold back. So if you're not sure about... this... I'm begging you Lindsay... take one step back and walk away from me. I SWEAR I'll understand if you choose to keep us professional..."

Lindsay looked at Danny and made her mind in a second. She took the step he requested. In the opposite direction.

"I sure hope as hell you have a car in the parking lot, Messer, cause damned if I'm going to wait for a cab to take us home... we're too old to be having sex inside a bathroom stall. Make tracks, cowboy. Now." She whispered in his ear, as she leaned forward.

Danny was speechless for about six seconds. Then he grinned and wrapped his arm around her waist and led her out of the banquet hall whilst his other hand clutched the SUV's keys in his pocket.

"So, Montana, think we're too old for a make-out session in the car before we reach my place?"

Xxx XXX xxX

"Having them two hook up was also part of the dress conspiracy, right?"

Stella couldn't help but smile when she heard this. "Dress conspiracy? Frankly, Don, I don't know what you're talking about.."

"You don't, huh?" His eyebrow shot up, giving her a questioning glance. "Let's analyze the facts, shall we? First you worry about me and Messer getting caught in the seduction net of a couple of blond kids. Then you decide to prove the aforementioned kids wrong regarding Lindsay's attractiveness. Then you get into a verbal sparring with Stevens and gauntlets were thrown. All these factors put together led to your shopping spree with Stefan. I'm assuming you women find that conclusion logical, cause I don't, but I know better than to argue with you."

"And assuming all your facts lead to a dress conspiracy is a logical conclusion, then?" It was Stella's turn to question his logic.

"I find no other way to call it. I understand how getting Lindsay to wear that dress was a key factor in showing them kids who's boss when it comes to Messer. I also understand how seeing her in that dress made HIM feel. And I KNOW what your dress is making ME feel. But call me an idiot if you'd like, but I simply cannot understand what your dress did to Stevens..."

Stella looked at him and smiled. Don Flack was so clueless some times, it was endearing. He may not know many things about women and their tactics, but when it came to her... Stella blushed a bit remembering how pleasantly surprised she was when she found out how well he knew women in other areas... he had just the right balance of life experience and youth stamina to keep up with her own sexual persona and for that she was thankful. She was also thankful for that lil' trick he knew involving her G spot and his fingers... and his highly skillful tongue... and... 

"You haven't heard a word I said, have you?"

Stella snapped back into reality, a deep blush covering her face. He seemed slightly amused upon seeing it.

"Now what on earth were you thinking about, Bonasera?" Noticing her blush deepened, Don's interest was more than aroused. He leaned into her ear to whisper. "Don't answer me that one just now... I'd much rather wait until we get home to find out..."

His voice sent shivers down her spine, and it took a couple of deep breaths to get herself back in control. "So you don't understand what was the dress all about? I'm not sure you'll be able to completely understand it, as it is, in fact, a women's thing."

"Eight years ago Emma Lou made me look like a fool. And she made sure I'd never forget it. For her, it was always about proving that she was better than me. Since she works a 9 to 5 job, she does have a personal life. She also has money, and she made a point of letting me know she had both.. and I didn't. In the past couple of years her interest in the issue had waned, and I had assumed it was forgotten. But if it was, the whole deal with Frankie brought it back, with a vengeance. She started the rumor mill again saying I got what I deserved by living with a younger man..."

"But you weren't living with him!" Don protested.

"You and I know it, but the rest of the department didn't. I didn't bother correcting them and Emma Lou took my silence as confirmation. To make matters worse, she saw us together later on..."

"How? When? I thought we had avoided discovery until now.." Don's forehead was furrowed with worry lines. He hated the idea of Stella suffering because of him.

"Mac's last birthday, remember? He basically agreed on going out to celebrate so I'd go out as well. I was still feeling like crap and all you guys made sure I forgot about it, at least for the night. Emma Lou found out about the outing and arrived to the bar, hoping she'd find Mac alone and me nowhere in sight. But Mac was teaching Lindsay how to disco and I... I was dancing with you."

The memory of the party was still clear in Don's head. It had been, perhaps, the happiest day of his life. After the party, Stella had taken up on his offer of driving her home. He had been in awe of her ever since he'd met her and had wondered often about her in bed. But awe and lust had made way to something deeper and when he saw her beaten up at her place he could have shot Frankie himself for hurting her. The intensity of his reaction took him by surprise, and soon after he had to admit his feelings for her. That night after the party, at her doorstep, he had finally confessed them to her.

Stella, oblivious to his trip down memory lane, kept on explaining. "She got out as soon as she saw us. She knew she wouldn't be able to get close to Mac or me, and she began her campaign against me once more. I won't burden you with all the nasty rumors she started about me.. and you... and Mac, as well. She had it bad. And she thought she could "finish" me tonight. She didn't know about Mac and Payton, and she didn't know you ad me were a done deal, either. She thought she could embarrass me publicly again once more, thus settling once and for all the score in her favour."

"And the dress comes in... ah.. where exactly?"

"Back in the 90's I was so busy proving I was as good as any man and in the process forgot many of the things that hold woman's interest. One of them was fashion. Emma Lou was really chic and I was a total klutz. I learned my lesson. Emma Lou never expected me to be so in the game. She thought that by wearing a designer gown, albeit of an older season, would be enough to make me feel insecure. I'm almost certain she was sure I was going to show up wearing a pantsuit and sensible everyday shoes..."

"No wonder she was so upset about your attire. There's nothing "sensible" about those killer shoes you're wearing.." Don leaned forward and nibbled on her earlobe. "Please tell me you're keeping them in bed tonight..."

Stella knew what was coming... and she pulled away. Don's nibbling on her ear would surely be followed by his nibbling on her neck, which would surely be followed by kissing on her shoulders, which in turn... too much for a PDA at a Force's Fundraiser. Don groaned at her decision but decided to behave... for the time being.

"Just tell me something. If you knew Stevens was such a bitch, why didn't you go looking for her and settle matters before? Why wait until now?"

"That's simple, love." Stella smiled and leaned into him, "I remembered an old Spanish saying: REVENGE IS A DISH BEST EATEN COLD."

Xxx XXX xxX

**A/N: **Ladies and gentleman, Elvis has left the building.

Thank you, thank you, thank you very much.

Please don't forget to leave your reviews before heading out.

**A/N2: ** I know some of you (okay, all of you) were expecting something a tad more...

M-ish... for this last ep. But since there are pre-school toys in the playground

(aka undearge readers) I decided to keep it as clean as possible. However, please

stay tuned for "AFTER THE BALL" coming to an X-Rated channel near you in the

upcoming weeks.


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